A Change Of Ways
by Asha17
Summary: What happens when an Original isn't so ancient anymore? Kol gets his comeuppance after years of negligent and callous behaviour.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. Small confession. I have not, in any way, even slightly, accepted that Kol will not be in **_**The Originals**_** other than appearing in a few, minor flashbacks. I basically just wrote this to feel better. **

**May contain spoilers at some point, I don't know.**

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine.**

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Kol Mikaelson has made plenty of mistakes in his exceptionally long life span.

Invincible, all-powerful and with only the threat of a dagger in the heart from his vengeful brother to evade, he's made a hell of a lot of enemies. Those whose lives he has shattered. Others who merely resent his abilities - envy the control Kol, as well as his siblings, have over almost every supernatural being, instilling fear for countless generations solely by a preluding reputation as the most malevolent, ruthless. Evil…

Unstoppable.

Until now, he has never really come to any harm.

Yes, Kol has been neutralized several times and has been carted around in a coffin for many years, transported from one place to another as he sleeps, frozen like stone. But that wasn't permanent. He and Nik may have their differences (many, _many_ differences), but he always brings him back. Or, plagued with a guilty conscience, Rebekah or Elijah do, though not without regretting the hasty decision sooner or later.

He always has been known as the impulsive, erratic, unpredictable one. Not exactly someone you'd trust to keep around. Worse than even Klaus.

But he's only ever having fun. After being cooped up so long, who can blame him? And God how he has loved adjusting to whatever changes have arisen during the decades he has lost out on. It's disorientating, for sure, but oh-so-new and exciting for someone who sometimes feels like they've seen it all. Stimulus is very important, you know. And the lapse in time provides that, if nothing else. Presents some distractions until he inevitably grows bored once again.

Truth be told, Kol has killed his fair amount, too. More than he could possibly count.

Of the Originals, he is the one who has created the most vampires, before killing them when they can no longer offer any further entertainment or he simply loses the patience for it all. Either way, it never ends well.

Now… Now it is all catching up with him. All his past misdeeds.

So...

Here he is.

Back in Mystic Falls, saying as it's the only place he knows where his family may be. He could have called, but then… There is no way they'd believe.

Thank God he still has his powers of compulsion, that's for sure. Otherwise he truly would have been stranded in Los Angeles. Helpless. All alone and no-one to turn to.

Curse that blasted witch!

If only Kol hadn't killed her daughter. Drained her of blood when he did. It tasted heavenly, of course, but that's no excuse. He has more self-control than that. He should have known better.

He did.

And now he is certainly paying for his idiocy.

It's not long before he unearths where his family have been staying after asking a couple of locals down at the Grill. They obviously weren't going for discreet. The mansion is huge, but he can recognise Nik's style almost immediately. Very… classy.

Swallowing hard, Kol takes a deep breath and for the first time in a long, long time, he feels almost afraid.

They can hear him approaching, surely?

One more step towards the doorway…

This has to be the worst thing he has ever faced.

Hand trembling ever so slightly, Kol tries not to grimace as he knocks on the heavy wood, waiting...

Oh God…

His fingers curl by his sides, fidgeting nervously.

Taking him by surprise, the door swings open, and he is confronted by his baby sister, looking as disgruntled and impatient as ever.

"Well?" she prompts with annoyance, flicking her golden hair over her shoulder as Kol just stares at her in silence. "What do you want?"

The words seem to get stuck in his throat.

"Uh…"

Rebekah rolls her eyes, glancing down at her perfectly polished, manicured nails. "Look, kid, I don't have time for this. Are you lost or something?" Her expression is in no way sympathetic. "Where is your mother? Are you here all by yourself?"

"Bekah…" he says thickly, causing her to straighten and blink at him in disbelief. "I-I-"

"How do you know my name?" she demands, voice raising. "What do you want, errands boy?"

He gazes up at her, wide-eyed and flustered.

"It-it's me," he finally stutters. "Bekah, it's me. Kol."

Laughing, she says patronizingly, "Oh, I get it. This is a joke, right?" Suddenly she calls, "Kol, cut it out. Come out from wherever you are hiding and stop sending petrified children to do your dirty work. This is low, even for you. Klaus will not appreciate these dim-witted tricks of yours. It's not funny, and you are a fool if you think anyone in the entire universe would fall for this."

"I'm not kidding, Bekah," Kol answers softly, surprising her again. "I weally am Kol."

"Sure you are," she replies dismissively, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's tue!"

Narrowing her eyes, his sister studies the dark mop of hair falling into his face, and the large, brown eyes pleading with hers. He has never felt so much at someone's mercy. "Well, he got the facial features fairly accurate, I'll give him that," she murmurs to herself. "Though what possessed Kol to stoop to this is beyond me. Must be bored to death, if this is all he can come up with. Usually he just leaves a few dead bodies lying around for someone else to clean up."

"Bekah, you gotta beieve me!" Kol cries, becoming desperate. "I am youw brothew! A powerful coven of witches cast a spell on me fow taking the life of one of der own. They twansformed me into a wittle kid."

She scowls. "This is ridiculous. How long has Kol compelled you to keep up this charade? _No_-_one_ is going to buy it. Certainly not me. Vampires cannot be turned into children!"

"Well, appawently dey can because hewe I am! Dey had help from da ofew side. It was one hell of a spell."

Rebekah scoffs.

"God, this is one elaborate lie." Sighing, she asks, indulging him, "So… what? You aren't an Original anymore? Is that it? Am I supposed to believe that you are my brother despite the fact that you appear to be no more than three? Last time I checked, Kol is in his twenties. Eternally!"

"Not anymore," Kol says, betrayed by the hot tears he can feel spilling over onto his podgy cheeks. "Pease, Bekah. I have nowhewe else da go!" He stifles a sob. "I'm despewate."

Groaning, she runs a hand down her face and moves aside to allow him in.

"You may as well come inside while you try to persuade me of the impossible. It's freezing out there."

Despite himself, Kol very nearly smiles. At least she isn't completely heartless when handling toddlers then.

She leads him to an expansive living room, which Kol dimly remembers from some other time he was here. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He has been here before…hasn't he?

In his confusion, maybe it simply slipped his mind.

"Take a seat," Rebekah instructs. "I'll be back in a moment."

He toddles over to the sofa, so incredibly high to him now, and after a moments exertion, he finally makes it to the top, slumping tiredly. Waiting in the strange silence, Kol doesn't even notice when his thumb finds it's way into his mouth.

A while later, Rebekah returns with a sceptical Elijah, who, understandably, cannot believe that the child before him, sucking absentmindedly on his thumb while he swings his legs anxiously, is claiming to be his daring, mischievous yet brutal, little brother.

"Hewo, Ijah." No doubt she filled him in.

"Sweet merciful Heavens…" Elijah mutters, wiping his brow. "This is the child that believes he is Kol, I presume?"

"Uh-huh."

Soon, his brows crease with worry. "Am I mistaken or does he not look disturbingly like our brother?"

"He does," Rebekah concedes. "However, there is no point even entertaining the idea that it is true. It is not possible, Elijah! We are Originals. There is no cure for vampirism, no reversal."

"I didn't say I wasn't still immortal," Kol grits out in frustration, angry at being so easily ignored and discussed as if he isn't sitting _right there_, wanting very badly to strike something.

"I may be a child, but I am still gonna live for an etewnity," he continues with a traceable note of defeat in his voice. "Most of my powers have been stwipped away, and I no longew crave bood. 'Dis is my curse. Da witches told me I am stuck like this. Dat it would serve as a punishment for all da tewible fings I done. I am still technically a vampiwe in da sense dat I cannot be killed and I will not age, though, to appease da laws of nature, I cannot harm anothew soul. Dis is the consequence of my actions. Dat's why it is possible."

His siblings are astounded by the speech. "So you really are…?"

"Yes," he nods gravely. "I am a mewe thee yeaw old. I don't know if dere awe any ofew side-effects. Da witches weren't too specific with dat."

They try. They try their best to remain composed, but it's not long before Rebekah and Elijah bust up laughing.

"Hey!" Kol protests, outraged that they would find his suffering so amusing. "Dis is serious!"

_Jeez._

He hadn't expected pity, but he hadn't thought they would react like that either. Or he hoped they wouldn't, at any rate.

"Oh, you don't see the irony?" Rebekah chuckles, totally unapologetic. "It's a little funny."

Kol glares at them to shut it, his attempt at intimidation only making them laugh harder. Sticking out his lower lip in what looks suspiciously like a pout, he says, "Dis is not a laughing mattew."

"Oh, come on," she complains. "If this were happening to someone else, you would be in hysterics."

Shrugging stiffly, he shoots back, "Well, it's not. And I don't see the humouw."

"You can't do anything! It's hilarious."

"I tan so!" Kol argues heatedly, though his eyelashes are now dripping with tears, he has this fierce urge to latch onto his thumb in comfort - which seems increasingly more appealing as time goes on - and he is feeling rather helpless.

Sensing his inner conflict, Elijah says sternly, "That's enough, Rebekah." He crouches down beside a skittish, distressed Kol and says gently, "You will be alright, brother. I will help, in whatever way you need. I give you my word."

"I feel so out of contwol, Ijah. I dunno what's gonna happen to me."

Elijah exhales, remaining expressionless.

"I'll be honest with you, Kol. It is not looking good. How long ago did you say this happened?"

"'Bout two days."

"And has there been anything that you have done that you wouldn't normally do? Bar the limited control over your emotions that may have resulted in some…" He pauses, tilting his head ever so slightly. "Undesirable behaviour."

"Um…" Kol thinks for a minute, and as he does so, his thumb sneaks back into his mouth. "I don't fink so…"

Elijah has to press his lips together to keep from smirking. "I see," he responds respectfully, his eyes tightening around the edges.

Already he has detected one new-found habit…

"Ijah, I weally don't want Nik to find out 'bout 'dis. Can't we keep it between ouwselves?"

"And how exactly do you suggest we do that, Kol?" Rebekah butts in, rolling her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. "We are in his house, you know. He's going to find out eventually."

"Can't you hide me?" Kol pleads. "Just for a little while?"

"Where on earth would you go?" she says in exasperation. "Klaus would become suspicious if we just upped and left all of a sudden and if anything, it is becoming clearer by the second that you cannot be trusted on your own."

"'Course I tan," he scowls, though there is an niggling voice in the back of his mind that questions his conviction.

"I have an idea," Elijah announces with a thoughtful expression. "I am owed several favours which may benefit us in this situation."

"Oh yeah?" Rebekah says, doubt creeping into her voice.

"Yes," he confirms, certain. "And Kol? Please do not argue, because I am afraid you are all out of options and do not have a choice in the matter."

Kol freezes. Maybe he shouldn't have trusted his elder brother so completely...

"Why?" he asks warily.

"I know of a place you can stay, and I also know for a fact that you will not be partial to it."

Kol gulps, nervous now.

Rebekah's eyes suddenly light with understanding and she nods slowly, contemplating it.

"I will send you to the Salvatore's boarding house," Elijah states firmly, non-negotiating, straightening the cuffs of his shirt, and subtly adjusting his tie. "It's the least they can do. After all, I have yet to kill either of them, and so long as they agree…" His lips curve just a little upwards, a hint of a smile. "It shan't be necessary."

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**Thank-you for reading. Any reviews would be much appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: It's basic logic, people. If Kol were mine, he never would've been killed off. It's that simple.**

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"What is this?"

Imagine Damon Salvatore's surprise when he opened the door at ten o'clock at night to find his favourite Original standing on his porch, gripping the hand of some petulant child who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.

His mouth twitches with disdain. "I thought you had more self-respect than to feast on children, Elijah. Aren't you, like, the all-noble one or something?"

Elijah is anything but amused. "This…" He gestures to calmly to the glowering kid. "Is my brother, Kol." Sounding almost bored, he continues, "As of now, he is officially under your care." Turning to leave, Elijah adds, "I will be back in the morning to see how he is."

Bewildered, Damon frowns.

"Wait!" he says quickly. "You can't just _leave _with zero explanation. What the hell is going on? You don't seriously expect me to believe that this _twerp_ is that unbalanced psycho?"

"Oh, I can assure you, he is." Elijah sighs as though this is all merely a terrible inconvenience, glancing down at the child sternly with the expression of a displeased father who expected nothing less. "Apparently, my brother aggravated some witches who took matters into their own hands to teach him a lesson. To tell the truth, from what I heard, part of me wonders if perhaps he may have deserved it."

"Oh, fanks, Ijah," Kol retorts, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Nice to know youw on my side."

Damon snickers at that, muffling the sound with the side of his fist at Kol's glare. "This is definitely the highlight of my day," he smirks. "An Original vampire reduced to a pathetic kid, who would've thought?"

"I would like you to keep a close eye on him at all times," Elijah carries on as if either hadn't spoken. "Make note of anything you perceive as unusual and keep him out of trouble, will you? Kol isn't exactly renowned for his self-discipline and I would prefer he didn't get up to any tomfoolery while I am gone."

"And why would I want to help you?" Damon asks mockingly, without an ounce of concern.

Elijah cocks his head to the side, and replies bluntly as if he's surprised it isn't obvious, "Why, because I could rip out your heart the second you give me reason to believe you are no longer of any use."

"But why dump him on me?" he asks, irritated. "I'm not your babysitter. I have better things to do than watch over your ill-timed, little pests."

"Niklaus is not aware of any of this, and I intend to keep it that way. Therefore, Kol is now your responsibility until I say otherwise, and if you harm one single hair on his head, I will see to it that you regret it. Understand?"

Jaw clenched, Damon answers tightly, "Fine. But if he pisses me off, I won't held accountable for my actions."

"Very well." Then, startling the other vampire, Elijah smiles gently and ruffles Kol's hair before saying lightly, "I'll check in on you tomorrow, alright, Kollie? I have some business to attend to. Be good for me, okay?"

Then, all too soon, he is gone.

And Kol is left staring up at one very bemused Salvatore, and berating himself for actually yearning for a stupid goodbye hug.

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A thousand years of extraordinary strength, speeds faster than the human eye can comprehend, a ravenous hunger that can overwhelm those with even the greatest self-restraint - the poised, disciplined ones who try and _try_ to curb the cravings, but in the end, it always comes down to blood.

And the _power_.

God, the blinding power.

Highs and lows, dipping between overindulgence, marvelling in the wonders of the world, and this intense hatred for virtually everything, lashing out because there's a statement in there somewhere - you've been around for so long… There has to be a _point_.

All those years massaging your ego, sauntering around in the most conceited and sardonic way possible.

Humans, vampires, even witches… Playthings to which he was lethal.

Kol knew that no matter what he did, or how many people he crossed, he could revel in the fact that essentially, he was untouchable.

But now?

Now, the prospect of living forever is enough to reduce the most light-heartedly callous Original to tears. That and... other things.

Not that Kol can help it. Nope, not anymore.

In itself, the all-consuming sobs that rack through his body are humiliating, totally degrading. Combined with the insufferable Salvatore he's repeatedly challenged and threatened to kill?

Kol pretty much has a mental break-down.

It took approximately thirty seconds after Elijah left for Kol to throw a stinkin' hissy-fit. Usually, when he's wound up, he gets vengeance or plays a mean, little prank, which may involve a few minor gashes on some unfortunate necks - sometimes they even preserve their pulse.

Only, in this moment, all Kol can do is plop down on the floor with a weak thump, and blubber like a stroppy toddler, kicking his stout legs in frustration.

Confined to these unfamiliar surroundings, the only person he trusts having seemingly vanished into thin air, Kol is swamped with these feelings of insecurity and defencelessness. Even Damon, towering over him, seems scary and imposing.

It's all too much for him to take in.

Damon, on the other hand, is flabbergasted, staring at Kol in amazement with his mouth partly open and no sound coming out.

Hearing this from some miles away - during the middle of his daily bunny-hunt - the door suddenly bursts open as Stefan barges in.

With a look of pure and utter astonishment, he glares at his brother, wide-eyed, before managing to pull himself together and articulate furiously, "What the hell, Damon?" He promptly scoops the unknown child into his arms, and protectively cradles his head to his chest. "Are you snatching children now?" Disgusted, Stefan suppresses the need to gag. "I knew you were sick, but this is beyond-"

"Slow down with the accusations there, brother," Damon snaps, recoiling. "Do you seriously think I'm that deranged? I know I've down some pretty messed-up things in my time, but I don't hurt kids."

"Then what in God's name are you doing with one?"

Seeing that Stefan is calming down enough to think rationally, Damon decides to tease him just a bit. "Oh, you know, just helping a neighbour out and partaking in a little, thoughtful babysitting." He smirks. "It's not a big deal. Just doing my part."

Stefan roll his eyes, jaw tightening. "Come on, Damon. Be serious."

Throwing his head back, he groans, "Fiiine."

Absentmindedly, Stefan begins stroking the boy's fine hair in an attempt to soothe his cries, and murmurs, "Shh... It's alright. You're okay. Everything is fine."

With a soft whimper, Kol mumbles almost intelligibly into his shirt, "Want Ijah."

Damon exhales in impatience and says brusquely, "Well, Elijah's not here right now!"

Stefan frowns, glancing down at the sniffling child before meeting his brother's gaze. "What? Did you just say _Elijah_?"

"Yup," he drags out the word, giving a small grimace. "He may have sort of, kinda, pushed me into overseeing that this little guy doesn't come to any harm." Damon makes a sharp slashing gesture across his throat, lip curling. "Else I'm toast."

"_Why_?" Stefan questions in bewilderment.

Half-shrugging in an overly careless manner, he explains, "Because, surprisingly enough, that '_innocent little child_,'" he makes the quote marks with his fingers, voice glaringly scathing, "you're holding just happens to be a freaking Original!"

"Wait, _what_?"

Some more vague hand gestures. "I don't know, some witchy mumble jumble. But the bottom line is that that, right there, is none other than Kol Mikaelson."

"You're kidding, right?" Stefan asks sceptically.

"Nope."

"You don't haveta talk about me wike I'm not hewe," Kol suddenly mutters with a deceivingly innocent little hiccup.

Stefan starts. "So it's true, then? You're…"

"Kol? Yeah."

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, he asks, "What are you doing here?"

"Hiding fwom Nik."

Stefan gives a curt nod of understanding.

Klaus… Of course.

"And you are upset because…?"

Kol cringes, his cheeks tinged an adorable shade of pink. "Dunno."

"You have no idea?" Stefan probes, quirking a doubtful brow. "None at all?"

"Umm…" He gazes down at the floor, toying with a loose thread on Stefan's jacket, coiling it around his pinky finger. "I fink I miss Ijah, but I dunno… It doesn't make any sense…" his voice trails off in confusion.

Stefan pats his head comfortingly, taking advantage of Kol's momentary distraction to head towards the couch. Taking a seat, he settles Kol down on his lap, keeping a secure arm around the boy's waist against his protests. "Alright, Damon. Tell me what Elijah told you to do."

Damon pours himself a half-glass of scotch, downs it, and replies, "Nothing much." He tilts his head. "Just to make sure the guy's happy enough, keep him safe while he's away, and to report back on anything I think is out-of-character." He smirks cruelly at Kol. "You know, like having a hysterical, juvenile outburst. Poor little fellow..." He sighs. "Suffers from a severe case of separation anxiety."

"You son of a-"

"Hey, hey!" Damon chuckles. "Watch your mouth, little man. We wouldn't want you sprouting any foul language, now, would we? Not very age appropriate."

Looking like he wants to kill something, Kol releases an angrily, pent-up breath.

"Thing is, I don't like you," Damon says, falsely upbeat as he gives a casual half-shrug. "Never have. And I would _gladly_ see you tossed out into the cold with nowhere to go." Amusement flickers in his eyes. "But, unfortunately, I have to play nice or else I have to face the wrath of your big, bad brother, so I really have no choice but to do whatever he says." His voice drops to a more threatening volume, gaze hardening. "But, make no mistake, every single moment I spend looking over you, I will consciously try to make you as _miserable_ as possible. Get it?"

Kol flashes an infuriated glare, but it only serves to make him look even more childish and cranky as he struggles against Stefan's ever-tightening, steely grip.

"And guess what?" Damon smirks, waggling his brows playfully.

"What?" Kol growls, eyes enraged.

"Elijah may have said that I can't physically torture you, but he didn't mention anything about treating you like the toddler that you are." Kol's face falls. "In fact," he grins, "I think he kind of hinted that that's what he'd prefer. After all, it didn't sound like he had any real faith in you." At this point, Damon sounds almost apologetic, forehead crinkled in a way that is certainly not sincere. "Practically proclaimed that you _need_ someone to care for you."

"Well, I don't," Kol asserts stubbornly. "And if you fink you can tawk down da me wheneve' you wish, I'll-"

"You'll… what?" Damon interrupts with a sneer. "Cry? Tell on me?" His eyebrows jump in patronizing alarm. "Storm off in a huff?"

Laughing, he moves for the door and calls cheerfully, "Have fun babysitting, little bro." Then, pausing, as if just remembering, he adds, "Oh, and Elijah also mentioned something about returning in the morning… Blah, blah, blah… Anything happens and he'll tear out your heart."

And with that parting gift, the door slams shut.

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**Thanks for reading.**


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